


wanna call you names and start a fight

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F, Gen or Pre-Slash, One Shot, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 3x02, Tamsin is itching for a real fight. Lucky for her, Bo's in the mood to give it to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wanna call you names and start a fight

**Author's Note:**

> Opening quote in italics is from 3x02, "SubterrFaenean". Title taken from Melissa Etheridge, "Nervous".

_"I was beginning to think I wasn't gonna get to kick your cute little ass today."_

The evening air is cool against Tamsin's skin, refreshing after the long hot shower she just had. Not that she even worked up a sweat sparring with her new "partner". Whether Dyson was holding back because she's a woman or because he doesn't want her to know all his tricks is yet to be determined, but it definitely wasn't the most satisfying fight she's had in a while. 

She's about to unlock her truck, intent on hitting up the liquor store and finding some place to park for the night, when she catches sight of a figure that's becoming irritatingly familiar walking toward her. 

"What do _you_ want?" Tamsin asks icily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Bo isn't cowed by the attempt at intimidation; she stops a few paces away and matches Tamsin's posture, solid and unyielding. "I was thinking about what you said earlier," Bo says casually.

A derisive laugh bubbles up in Tamsin's throat, and she arches an eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific, sweetheart. I'm just a font of profound wisdom."

"About kicking my ass," Bo clarifies. The corner of her mouth twitches upward, and her eyes dance with an almost playful sort of challenge. "I thought maybe you'd want to give it another try—this time without cheating and taking me by surprise." 

"Honey, I'm Dark Fae," Tamsin chuckles. She nods back in the direction of the gym. "If you're looking for a fair fight, you might want to hit up your little wolfboy." She cocks her head, lips spreading in an arrogant smirk. "Although he might still be licking his wounds." 

Bo doesn't seem to be too enthused about that idea; Tamsin figures if Dyson will go easy on _her_ , it must be a hundred times worse for someone he's all moony over. After a moment's consideration, Bo nods slowly. "All right, how about this: No fae powers, no weapons. Everything else is fair game."

Well now things are getting interesting. Tamsin narrows her eyes. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Bo says with a shrug. "I just really feel like hitting something, and for some reason you were the first thing that came to mind."

Tamsin has to laugh. It turns out her and the feed-crazy succuslut have something in common after all. "Okay, Succubus. You're on."

***

"So how do you want to do this?" Tamsin asks, eyeing Bo carefully as she flexes her hands in anticipation. This is like La Shoshain, only better because she's allowed to hit people.

Bo shrugs and looks around at the abandoned lot she directed Tamsin to. It's like a graveyard for abandoned cars, many of which have been smashed into near-unrecognizable lumps of metal and shattered safety glass. There are a lot of things here that Tamsin could utilize without _technically_ breaking the "no weapons" rule. For now, though, she takes advantage of Bo's brief distraction and lunges in, clocking her across the jaw.

Stumbling backward, Bo rubs at her face and shoots Tamsin an indignant glare. 

Tamsin spreads her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Anything goes, right?" 

"That's right," Bo says, a grim smile spreading across her lips. She and Tamsin circle one another for a few moments, each looking for an opening. When Tamsin throws another punch, Bo ducks under it and socks her squarely in the stomach.

"Would you look at that," Tamsin pants, catching her breath. "Baby fae's got some moves after all." 

She doesn't give Bo a chance to respond. Surging forward again, Tamsin grabs the lapels of Bo's jacket and slams her against a nearby car. Bo grunts, clamps her hands over Tamsin's. Leaning back against the car, she lifts herself up and kicks Tamsin away from her. 

While Tamsin recovers her balance, Bo leaps toward her. They're fighting in earnest now, lashing out with fists and feet. Tamsin's going to have some nice bruises in the morning, but damn is it worth it to swing her foot at Bo's head and watch the bitch go down. 

Triumph is short-lived, however. Almost before Bo even hits the ground, she tangles her legs in Tamsin's and knocks her off-balance as well. Tamsin winces as she lands hard on her side. Bo tries to gain the upper hand but Tamsin rolls into her. She ends up on top, straddling Bo's hips and pinning her shoulders to the ground. 

For a moment, it appears as if Bo might be defeated—or at least, that's what she wants Tamsin to think. Tamsin's arrogance is her undoing, causing her to loosen her hold _just enough_. Bo reaches up and sinks her fingers into Tamsin's hair, tugging hard. 

"Ow! Not the hair, bitch!" Tamsin snaps. She yanks on Bo's wrists, but Bo is holding on tight.

"Aw, does the big bad Dark Fae have a vain streak?" Bo mocks. A quick roll of her hips is all it takes to reverse their positions. Bo is smarter than Tamsin was; she closes her hands around Tamsin's wrists and presses them into the dirt on either side of Tamsin's head. "Anything goes, remember?"

Pebbles of shattered glass dig into Tamsin's back and shoulders as she arches up, trying to throw Bo off of her. It's futile; once the succubus got her horizontal, she gained the advantage. It's her natural state, after all. 

Shit. Tamsin can't believe she just lost to this unaligned baby fae bitch. What's worse, she can feel something way more troubling than adrenaline racing through her veins. She would accuse Bo of breaking the "no powers" rule, but her mind is still very much her own—there's no way the succubus is trying to charm her. 

It's the fight, that's all. She always gets a little worked up after a good fight—and as much as Tamsin doesn't want to admit it, Bo definitely delivered on that front. Then there's that low-cut top Bo has on—her cleavage is practically reaching out to shake hands. Does she have to be such a damn stereotype?

Bo's mouth twists lazily into a smirk. She knows exactly what effect she's having—it must be some succubus power or something. She leans down slowly, until Tamsin can feel warm breath puffing against her lips, and Tamsin is torn between forcing Bo off of her—even if she has to use her damn powers to do it—or lifting her head far enough to meet Bo's lips and find out just what the big deal is that has everyone falling at this bitch's feet. 

Just when Tamsin is leaning dangerously close toward the latter option, Bo grins. She grinds her hips down into Tamsin's, slow and deliberate, then pushes herself up to her feet. "Thanks for the workout," she calls over her shoulder as she saunters away.

Tamsin groans, lets her head fall back against the dirt. Sweat is cooling on her skin, and there's an ache between her legs growing stronger by the minute. God, she hates that bitch.


End file.
